


Bewitched

by Space_Cadet_Blues



Series: Blood and Stone [5]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Anal Sex, M/M, Mage Connor, Magic, Mating Rituals, Werewolf Courting, werewolf Hank
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:46:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21979051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Space_Cadet_Blues/pseuds/Space_Cadet_Blues
Summary: Months on, Hank of Ironfort still knows very little about his companion turned business partner, Connor of Embershade.What he does know is that the mage takes great delight in getting on his nerves. Hank just might be okay with that.
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor
Series: Blood and Stone [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1582276
Comments: 16
Kudos: 191





	Bewitched

Hank sips his ale at a table in a dark corner of the tavern and watches Connor as he orders them food. He's dressed in rich blues, browns and whites, his slender form tipped against the counter as he leans on his elbow chatting to the woman behind the bar.

Hank can see a flush blooming over his cheeks from the alcohol (despite his protests Connor is quite the lightweight) and there's a slight sway in his form. The flickering lamplight catches on the azure stud in his earlobe and Hank's stomach tightens. He's pretty. Too pretty.

Hank often finds himself at the mercy of moments like these in the handful of nights leading up to the full moon. Where he can sit back and admire Connor, and take secret primal delight in knowing every inch of him.

He pulls his thoughts back from the gutter and sips a little more ale. He really should pull himself together, but just the sight of Connor is enough to get him riled up. He can be patient. Their room is a stone's throw away on the upper floor. They'll fall into bed soon enough.

He glances up just in time to catch a tall figure in shiny slightly scuffed armour sidle up to Connor. The man is handsome, with wavy swept back auburn hair and piercing green eyes. He leans on the bar and shoots Connor a charming smile.

Hank feels the steel of the tankard warp in his grip. 

He's up before he can process any logical thought in his brain, and striding toward Connor steady and purposeful.

The man attempting to make conversation suddenly stiffens, posture turning defensive. Hank knows he's an intimidating figure even while out of his armour. Impossibly tall, broad, with piercing eyes and wild silver hair. He utilises his appearance well.

"Connor, is this guy bothering you?"

Connor takes the tankard the barmaid places cautiously in front of him in hand and smiles. "No. He was just leaving actually."

There's a slight flick of his fingers and the man suddenly turns and walks back to his table. 

Connor turns to look at Hank. "Thank you for coming to my rescue but as you can see, I don't need your assistance."

"Right," Hank says, as Connor brushes past him. He bites his tongue regarding their adventure just this morning, where Connor had fallen victim to a trap inside the crypt they were exploring and had at that moment in time, very much needed Hank's help.

Connor is capable... But clumsy. Hank resents the insinuation he isn't needed.

They sit at their table and Hank fidgets in his seat. Connor catches the movement and smiles. 

"Were you jealous Hank? Did you think that, that handsome adventurer was going to sweep me off my feet?"

Hank growls lowly at the thought and Connor rests his chin on his palm, regarding Hank with a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

"Did you think he'd convince me to go back to his room, where he'd no doubt peel me out of my clothes and have me spread my legs for him."

Hank knows Connor is just trying to get under his skin. It's somewhat spiteful and Hank doesn't know if that makes it better or worse. All he knows is his blood is boiling and Connor's low tone and scent are driving him wild.

And then to make matters worse, he feels the rough drag of Connor's boot up the inside of his calf. 

"I don't think it would be worth my time. All that armour with barely a scratch on it. He's definitely compensating for something." Connor sips his drink and then peers at Hank from under his eyelashes. "The gods clearly haven't blessed him as they have you Hank. Rest assured, I am most certainly _ruined_ for anyone else."

The sound of Connor's boot hitting the stone floor echoes in Hank's sensitive ears, and he almost leaps up out of his chair at the press of Connor's heel against his crotch. There's a teasing smile on his face and Hank is simultaneously aroused and infuriated.

Connor snorts a soft laugh and bites his lip before speaking again. "There it is. That look. You want to take me upstairs and _ruin_ me, don't you? All of your instincts are telling you to push me down and fill me up, keep me there with your spend inside me."

Every word Connor says is carefully annunciated for maximum effect, and by the way Hank's cock is steadily filling it's most certainly working. 

Connor pauses before he leans back, foot retreating. 

"You'll have to wait," he says. 

Hank almost overturns the table.

Connor smells sweet. Like he's receptive to Hank, like he wants him, because he does. Though he is very invested in playing this game. To see just how far he can push Hank, only to let him loose once the tension reaches a fever pitch.

The month previous he had restrained Hank using magic and teased him mercilessly with those soft hands and even softer lips. 

Hank swallows at the memory and Connor grins.

Hank both fears and anticipates what Connor has in store for him one they return to their room. 

***

Connor eats, slowly. 

Hank abstains. He's hard, impatient, and no longer interested in food. The beast doesn't let him have much restraint this far into the cycle.

He'd never hurt Connor or force him into anything he didn't want. But he does tend to get irritated quickly. This only amuses Connor who looks at him over his half full plate with no pity in his eyes. The bastard. But somehow this makes Hank want him more.

Once Connor has finished, Hank is up, taking him by the wrist and urging him out of the chair. Connor follows with a superior air about him that Hank can't wait to break down.

Connor usually keeps his defences up in public but once Hank has him behind closed doors and on his back it all melts away. He becomes soft, sweet. Lets Hank in just that little bit more.

Connor walks in front of Hank a sway in his step and Hank lingers close behind him, hating himself for how much he feels like a beast following the heat-scent of a potential mate. Which actually he supposes isn't too far from the truth.

Though he still isn't too fond of the edge of desperation it causes him. He likes to be in control. But so does Connor to a point. He won't give himself over until he makes Hank submit first.

When they're through the door Hank tries to get ahold of him but Connor steps away, holding up a hand. 

"Stay."

"Connor," Hank growls. 

But Connor only gives him a promising look, repeating "stay."

Hank waits, hands clenching and unclenching, watching intently as Connor begins to take off his clothes. He starts with his boots, and the rest he peels off with magic, leather and cloth rustling and sliding away from his body to reveal pale skin dotted with freckles.

Hank licks his lips, mouth suddenly dry. Beautiful. Connor is beautiful. 

Suddenly the scent of him is overpowering and Hank takes a step forward, only to be knocked back firmly by an invisible barrier.

"I said wait," Connor says, voice stern. It sends shivers down Hank's spine and makes his cock throb. 

" _Connor_ ," Hank says again, despising the way his voice lilts into an almost desperate whine.

Connor ignores his plea and instead he crawls backwards onto the large bed until he has reclined into the mound of pillows at the head. Once settled he cants his knees, sliding a hand down the front of his body, over the plane of pale skin down and down further between his legs.

He palms his cock with a sigh until it fills, flushing a ruddy pink and bobbing up against his belly.

Hank grits his teeth, he wants to bite him. Mark the creamy insides of his thighs and the bared column of his neck.

But he has to wait. Connor hasn't given him permission yet. 

Connor smiles at him before tipping his head back and closing his eyes, mouth falling open with a soft exclamation of pleasure as he continues to touch himself.

He writhes and arches as his other hand rubs over his balls and then lower still, he spreads his legs so Hank can see. He's wet, pre-prepped and flushed where his fingers are now pressing.

The reason Hank could pick up on his scent so strongly. And it catches him again now. The want, the arousal, it's too much. Hank is vaguely aware of the feral noise he makes as Connor eases a finger into himself, dragging it in and out slowly.

Hank's ears pick up every wet slide of skin on skin and Hank may not be able to step forward and claim Connor yet but he can remove his own now stifling layer of clothes clinging to his dampening skin.

He hears the fabric of his tunic rip as he roughly removes it but he doesn't care. He kicks off his boots and shoves down his trousers and the cool mountain air that hits his skin is a partial relief.

Hank looks up to find Connor watching him, eyes hooded and dark. 

"Hank," he moans. 

Hank takes a step forward and meets no resistance. 

" _Hank_ ~" Connor says again, sliding his finger free and smoothing both hands over the insides of his thighs.

Hank takes a few more cautious steps forward and Connor's eyes soften, legs tipping a little more open. The signal Hank has been waiting for.

He climbs onto the bed and flips Connor onto his front. Connor squeaks in surprise but moans softly when Hank pulls his hips up and spreads him.

Hank hums softly and rubs the pad of his thumb over Connor's flushed and twitching hole. "When did you..."

" _Ngh_ ~ this afternoon. When I asked for privacy to soak in the tub," Connor says, steadying himself on his knees, back bowed and chest pressed to the sheets.

"You seemed like you needed some relief."

"Nothing to do with you being desperate for it then?" Hank asks, amused. He may be pretty bad for sniffing round Connor but he knows the looks Connor gives him frequently.  
Connor snorts a laugh, "Look who's talking." 

Hank presses the hot and hard flesh of his cock to the crease of Connor's ass and grinds between his cheeks. "So we can't be just as bad as each other?"

" _Aahn_ ~ m-maybe."

He'll take that. 

Carefully he nudges his cock head against Connor's hole and carefully presses inside him. Connor grips the sheets but the sounds he makes and his scent convey no discomfort.

Hank is big, and thanks to his unusual condition and the date on the lunar calendar, he'll lock them together approaching climax. Not that Connor ever seems to mind.

Connor takes it all in his stride, rocking back as Hank pushes in, drooling and whining against the comforter as he starts to take Hank with ease. 

Hank leans over him, sliding a hand over Connor's belly and up to his chest.  
His nipples are hard and peaked and Connor clenches up tight around him as his fingers rub and tweak intermittently. 

"Oh fuck Hank. Yeah that's so- _ah_ ~"

Hank loves hearing him, wether he's spewing praise or hurried instructions, Hank absorbs it all. 

He thrusts slow, gradually pressing deeper and deeper. Connor lets out a needy animalistic sound every time he bottoms out and Hank grows wild for it.

He tightens his hold on Connor's hips and pulls him onto his cock, over and over. Connor whimpers curses, shivering as Hank nails his prostate. 

"Fuck, Hank, harder, harder _please_."

Connor reaches back a hand and grabs his right wrist tightly. Neatly kept nails biting into his flesh. 

Hank does as asked, shoving into him hard and steady. Connor wails and Hank can't bear to shush him.

Not that he wants him quiet. Ideally they'd have their own home where Connor can be as loud as he pleases but due to their constant travelling it's not really an option for now. He couldn't be sure that Connor wouldn't slip away regardless.

He seems to be running from something. Quite what Hank doesn't know. Maybe one of these days Connor will realise he can trust Hank to protect him. And maybe trust him enough to open up about his past.

Hank has caught himself daydreaming again, fantasising as if Connor is actually his mate. He knocks these thoughts violently away. When did he get so attached to Connor anyway? The little shit is constantly trying his patience in and out of the bedroom. 

...Maybe that's why.

Connor squirms, jolts slightly, he lets out a choked sob and tightens around Hank in a telling way. Hank reaches under and palms his cock, pulling a breathless gasp from him. Dry aside from the steady trickle of pre-cum. He's holding himself back.

Connor sobs again, oversensitive in the wake of his first orgasm. Hank carefully eases out of him and tips him onto his back. 

Connor throws an arm over his face and Hank pulls it away, earning a teary eyed glare. 

Hank snorts a laugh and leans down to kiss him.

He repositions himself and slides home again, Connor's legs pinning tight to his hips reflexively. Connor whimpers into his mouth, shaking hands threading themselves into Hank's hair.

Sometimes he'll pull on it when he gets close, something that Hank likes very much. Connor is somewhat shy about close contact during sex but lets himself go gradually, and Hank can feel him letting down those barriers now.

Content to cling and let Hank kiss him. 

Hank does eventually back off to let him breathe and Connor tugs on his hair as anticipated when he ups the pace.

Connor's mouth is open and shiny, skin flushed red over his chest, neck and face, right to the tips of his ears. The noises he makes only drive Hank to fuck him harder, deeper, faster.

Connor bites back a sob and arches his back, toes curling as he climaxes again. 

Hank slows, groaning into Connor's bared neck and dragging his tongue over Connor's pounding pulse. This close his scent is overwhelming. Sweet spice, warm and familiar.

"Hank," Connor whispers. Barely audible but Hank hears him. 

He presses a kiss to the corner of Connor's mouth and gives a few hard thrusts, beginning to swell inside him.  
Connor whimpers and clings to Hank's shoulders, legs falling away from Hank's hips to accommodate him better. Hank's pace grows hurried and Connor revels in it, shoving a hand between their slick bodies to palm himself.

"Hank, Hank I can feel... It's so... Just fill me up, please, please." 

His eyes are wet with tears as he begs and Hank can only nod, delirious with the fact that Connor allows this. That he isn't afraid of Hank. He saw him, really saw him, and didn't run.

Hank comes with a gutteral moan and then Connor is leaning up to kiss his mouth and then his neck, humming appreciatively. 

He lays back, bringing Hank with him and curling around him as Hank pulses hard and impossibly thick inside him.

It's heaven Hank thinks as Connor runs his fingers through his hair. 

When they are able to separate Hank slips out of him carefully and wastes little time in kissing his way down Connor's body and taking him into his mouth.

Connor gasps his name, grabbing fistfuls of silver hair as Hank sucks him greedily, swallowing him down and taking his spend as Connor abruptly reaches climax for the third time.

Hank releases him once he feels Connor relax and pulls him into a kiss. Connor moans softly but makes a face once they part. Hank laughs. 

"Delightful."

"Well I thought so," Hank says, patting Connor's hip before stretching out next to him on the bed.

Connor joins him after a moment, laying on his side facing Hank with a reasonable amount of space between them. He closes his eyes.

"You're not much of a snuggle bug tonight," Hank says, then he softens when Connor doesn't move, growing worried, "was I too rough?"

Connor's eyes snap open and he huffs a derisive laugh before turning over. 

Hank sits up. "Connor-"

"You were fine Hank. More than fine." He says the last part so quietly Hank almost doesn't hear it.

Hank lays back down and rolls to face Connor's back. Gently he reaches out and brushes his fingers along Connor's spine. 

" _Don't_ -" Connor says. But it doesn't sound like he actually wants Hank to stop, more like he's scared of what might happen if he doesn't.

 _Don't make me fall for you. It'd be inconvenient_. He'd said once in jest. 

Maybe it's not a joke anymore.


End file.
